


come back to the place you are

by alpheratz



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Complicated Relationships, M/M, Post-MCR, Reconciliation, Say Anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpheratz/pseuds/alpheratz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard's not going to let Ray fall out of touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come back to the place you are

**Author's Note:**

> For no_tags September 2013 prompt "Ray/Gerard, new start." Originally posted [here](http://no-tags.dreamwidth.org/17311.html)

It's not that Ray did it on purpose. He hadn't been trying to give Gerard a hint or anything. It's just that, with the baby learning to 1) crawl, and 2) disengage the childproofing faster than he and Christa could think to upgrade the hardware, the family summer vacations, and the shiny gadgets that arrived at a steady rate on his doorstep, he had a lot less free time. So he let the texts from Gerard sit a bit, for a few hours at first, then a few days. The emails were even easier to let slip. They got buried in his inbox the same way they'd get buried in Gerard's if he replied.

The texts became rarer, a slow Morse code of occasional bizarre pictures. Gerard's missives were stuttering to a stop, like he was finally winding down From what Ray had heard, though, Gerard was just about the opposite of that. Gerard was a sharknado of energy, tearing through projects and guitars and probably attacking the fanmail with a zeal that made Ray sick to his stomach to even think of.

Gerard was busy. They all were. It was normal to -- not _lose_ touch, but misplace it, maybe. Shove it into the glove compartment of life under half a dozen expired insurance cards. You knew it was still there -- you'd just have to rummage around when you needed it.

All of this made perfect sense to Ray, so when he emerges from his studio, ravenous, for his afternoon snack of coffee and Skittles, it does not make sense that Gerard is sitting on the floor holding the baby. The baby is holding what looks like Gerard's phone, half in his chubby little hands and half in his mouth.

Gerard grins at Ray, huge and sunny. "Hey, Toro. Nice baby you got there. Aren't you, baby Toro?"

Ray helplessly looks around for Christa. She walks out of the kitchen holding a can of Diet Coke. He raises his eyebrows at her as calmly as he can.

"Gerard dropped by," Christa says, like that explains anything, and drops the Coke into Gerard's lap.

Gerard catches it before it can do any damage to sensitive parts and directs his toothy grin at Christa. "Thanks."

Christa ruffles Gerard's hair and leans down to kiss the baby's head. "Have fun, you two. Pringles, be good. I'm off."

When Christa leaves, Ray sighs and puts his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here?"

Gerard raises an eyebrow and Ray flushes. "I mean, I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Mm-hm." Gerard's foreheads smooths but he still looks amused.

Ray really needs to remember that they've been friends entirely too long and Gerard, for all his self-absorption, is actually far from oblivious.

Gerard waits for Ray to say anything else, but all Ray can do is thumb at the edge of his jeans pockets nervously.

"You call your kid Pringles?" Gerard asks finally, shifting the baby to his other side. "Hey, baby Toro, easy there on that phone."

Ray takes a couple of steps forward and gently pries Gerard's phone from his son's mouth. When he leans over them, he catches a whiff of warm smell of baby's head, P&G shampoo, and an old-new Gerard smell, Paperback cologne and sweat and hair dye mingled with new deodorant and new shampoo. Ray really hadn't seen Gerard in a long while.

"He made that popping noise sometimes when he nursed," Ray explains weakly, straightening up and retreating a safe distance, and wipes Gerard's phone on his shirt. "Here. We're trying limit his smartphone exposure, man."

Gerard bursts out laughing and stands up, a smooth movement that Ray's hardly ever seen, unless they're onstage -- but Ray doesn't think about that. He balances the baby on one hip with his right hand and reaches out for the phone with his left, plaid cuff unbuttoned and riding up, wedding band glinting on his finger. He's hardly tanned at all over the summer. "Thanks, Toro."

The baby's busy chewing on Gerard's shirt -- also new, not one Ray'd ever seen on him -- and fusses when Ray takes him from Gerard's arms.

"It's cool, kid," says Gerard. "We'll hang again soon, yeah?" He sounds happy, calmer than any of the times Ray's seen him in the last couple of years, but the brief glance he throws at Ray before turning all his attention back on the baby is a question.

"Yeah," says Ray before he can think it about it. "Don't be a stranger, Geeway."

Gerard arches his eyebrow again and pats Ray's cheek, and Ray is shocked at the feel of it, the intimacy of calluses scratching on his skin. Gerard's been playing, a lot.

"I think that's my line," Gerard says after a moment. "See ya, Toro."

Ray stares at the door, then stares at the baby. "Huh. You liked Gerard, young padawan?"

His kid really is fucking cute, fuzzy hair and Christa's clear brown eyes, and he gurgles happily when Ray says Gerard's name. Ray sighs.

After that, the texts get more frequent, a handful of them in the span of a week, but Ray can't bring himself to reply, not even when Christa suggests, in her nice, mild way, to stop being stupid.

The dinner invitation arrives on Monday afternoon when Ray's in the studio, the phone buzzing and making Ray's stomach swoop. Fucking Gerard. That's not something Ray can just forget to answer. Clearly, though, Ray's busy and can't possibly let himself be distracted until he's done for the day. And if the day stretches into late evening, that's not something he can help. Music waits for no man.

He doesn't hear it so much as feel the beat in his ears muddy in the way it can only when there's music blaring somewhere very close by. He throws his headphones off and whirls around in his chair, glaring at the door and fucking _In Your Eyes_. He can practically see the wavy lines and musical notation floating through the door.

He stalks to the door and yanks it open, and on the other side is Gerard with an actual goddamn boom box in his arms and an unrepentant grin and sincere eyes.

"For fuck's sake," Ray hisses, stabbing at the Stop button. The sudden silence is almost louder than the music. "Can't you play that under a window like a normal person? Christa's going to kill you if you wake the baby. How did you even get in here?"

Gerard lets Ray take the boom box and looks around Ray's studio avidly, like Ray didn't just tell him off. "Nice place."

"Gerard," Ray growls through his teeth.

Gerard gives him that big sunny grin again. It's utterly disarming, Gerard's charm turned up to eleven and aimed straight at the heart, and Ray's got no armor, just a Pink Floyd t-shirt and a few feet of distance.

Gerard trails his hand along Ray's new mixing board, his feel-better present to himself, and shifts his body minutely towards Ray. "I played it outside your window for a while, but it turned out to be the bedroom. Christa let me in."

Ray sits down, wobbling on the swivel chair. "Oh my god."

That grin again. "I can't help it that she loves _Say Anything_."

"You are the least convincing Lloyd Dobler ever."

"You should answer my texts."

Gerard steps up to Ray and Ray snaps up his head, suddenly angry. "I'm happy you're happy, you know. But you took a lot away from me and you can't just--"

Gerard's mouth twists, but he still comes closer, boots scuffing on the floor until his knees touch Ray's. "I'm sorry about that."

"I know." Ray looks down at Gerard's knees, the worn threads of Gerard's favorite jeans, so he doesn't have to look at Gerard's face where there's sadness but no guilt at all.

Gerard's fingers thread through Ray's hair, petting thoughtfully. "I'm trying to give you some things too, though. Maybe it doesn't make up for it, but that's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?"

Gerard's sigh is all drama and exasperation. "You're my friend, Ray."

Ray finally looks up at him, and yeah, it still hurts to look at Gerard's face, but Gerard's fingers in his hair are making his stomach swoop, and together these sensations are heart-stopping. "We'll come to dinner."

Gerard beams at him and leans down, his hair brushing Ray's face and getting closer until Ray lets his eyes flutter shut to feel the kiss Gerard drops at the corner of his mouth. Maybe, maybe, it would be all right. 


End file.
